Examining the Immortal Descent and Dharma Lineage of the Heavenly Court
The Tao has its ancestral source; the immortals have their lineages. If a person’s lineage is unclear, that person is not genuine; if the ancestral source is not clear, that teaching is not orthodox. Therefore, when Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Taoists travel to visit masters, they must examine lineage and ancestral source. Now, after five transmissions of the line of our Divine Lord of Eastern Florescence (Donghua Dijun), it came to Patriarch Wang Chongyang of the Northern School, who opened the Quanzhen teaching and at one stroke ordained the Seven Perfected, each with their own name and lineage poem. All who belong to this line of direct transmission must know the names of the lineages. The first is the Longmen lineage of Patriarch Qiu; the second, the Suishan lineage of Patriarch Liu; the third, the Nanwu lineage of Patriarch Tan; the fourth, the Yuxian lineage of Patriarch Ma; the fifth, the Huashan lineage of Patriarch Hao; the sixth, the Yushan lineage of Patriarch Wang; the seventh, the Qingjing lineage of Patriarch Sun. The Seven Perfected each passed on their own lineage, and the Taoist genealogies all survive and can be clearly verified. Whenever you meet someone from beyond the world by chance, if their lineage is not genuine, then they are either of an outside teaching or a side door, or else a fraud and a rogue—what is called a “ghost who eats under false pretenses.” If you meet such people, you must question them. If you find their learning of the Tao mixed with side-door teachings and their speech incoherent, they are surely people who have slipped into the mysterious gate, and it is right to turn them away.
On Quanzhen Wandering
There are seven treasures carried on one’s person. First, the meditation cushion, for subduing demons beyond the world. Second, the patched robe, for restraining the mind and nature. Third, the bamboo basket and gourd ladle, for sharing food and drink with the worthy. Fourth, the palm-fiber hat, for protection against wind and frost. Fifth, the palm-leaf fan, for brushing away the affairs of the world. Sixth, the blue bag, for keeping the elixir scriptures secret. Seventh, the flat staff, for making the Great Tao manifest. If someone has all of these, answers when asked, and speaks without falsehood, they may be called a person of broad learning. Yet there may still be among them those who use this to wander about and live off others. Anyone who carries bedding and bundles, lays out a bedroll, and undresses to sleep is surely falsely posing as a member of the mysterious gate, of unknown origin; one must examine them carefully.
On the Nine Styles of Cap Worn by Quanzhen Taoists
The first is the Tang cap; the second, the Chonghe cap; the third, the Haoran cap; the fourth, the Xiaoyao cap; the fifth, the Ziyang cap; the sixth, the Yizi cap; the seventh, the Lun cap; the eighth, the Sanjiao cap; the ninth, the Jiuyang cap. The so-called Tang cap may be worn only by descendants of the lineage of Patriarch Lü Chunyang of the Tang dynasty. As for their use: the old wear the Chonghe cap and the young the Xiaoyao cap; in cold weather one may use a kerchief cap, and on snowy nights the Haoran cap; ordinarily one uses the Ziyang or Yizi cap—each according to what is suitable. Only Taoists of the highest attainment who have received the Precepts of Initial Perfection may wear the Lun cap and the crescent-moon crown; those who have received the Precepts of the Central Ultimate, the Sanjiao cap and the Three Terraces crown; those who have received the Precepts of the Celestial Immortal, the Chongxu cap and the Five Peaks crown. All caps are made of dark (xuan) cloth or satin. For dark is heaven; the head is round and resembles heaven; heaven’s one gives birth to water; the color of water is dark; and darkness is the mystery of the Tao. Wearing dark on the head is thus a way of honoring the Tao. Those who wear the Jiuyang and similar caps made of silk and damask in other colors belong to the nine schools and outside teachings, or are followers who live at home with families; they are certainly not Taoists who burn incense and cultivate in the monastery. There are some with disheveled hair or twin topknots, or with a Qingfeng embroidered headband or a bamboo-leaf crown; some who wear a hundred-patch robe, or robes such as the Hunyuan Sanhuang, the thousand-stitch book-robe, or the Erxian lazy patchwork; some who tie at the waist a nine-strand cord, a Lü Gong cord, or a single-qi cord; some who carry in hand a wind-and-fire palm whisk, or hold a five-brightness demon-subduing fan; some who go barefoot, or wear many-eared hemp sandals, or straw sandals and palm-fiber shoes. Among these it is hard to tell the true from the false. One must examine their dignified deportment and observance of rules, their learning and practice, and inquire about their travels and lineage, their scriptures and daily liturgy. If these are lacking or incomplete, their claims are surely false. If even their outward appearance is incomplete, how could they understand inner cultivation? As for those in lay clothes and small caps, with coiled queues and plain rosaries, they are ignorant common folk, of the sort of lay vegetarian devotees. There is further the fear that among them may be heretics and followers of evil teachings; they should be thoroughly investigated and strictly guarded against.
On Quanzhen Lodging as a Wandering Taoist (Guadan)
When first entering a public monastery on a famous mountain—whether among Taoist temples and monasteries or Buddhist temples—everything depends on the rules. First place your meditation cushion at the door of the guest hall, bow to the guest prefect, and sit and talk. After tea, answer his questions: where you set out from and where you now wish to go. If your words are true and honest, he will observe your conduct and assign you a place. The next morning, after washing and combing, go to pay homage to the sacred images. Straighten your robe with your own hands, regulate your breath, walk slowly, respectfully face the altar with feet together, and pay homage—but do not bow at the very center. If anyone bows at the center of the altar, onlookers will recognize them as a braggart; even if the hall master does not rebuke them, it is ultimately arrogance, and the community will look down on them. If, after a long journey, one’s clothes and shoes are not clean, one should bow only from the side, outside the altar. As for those who stand with feet splayed, hands pressed together, head thrust out like a pot and arms spread like a rake, or who kneel and kowtow four or five times, or stand and bow two or three times—all such people are surely dull and vulgar fellows.
On Quanzhen Worship
Outwardly, honor dignified deportment; inwardly, keep the mind in deep sincerity and reverence. Fix your thoughts and concentrate your spirit, and stand upright with hands clasped facing the shrine. When bowing, the hands go no higher than the eyebrows; the body bends like the full moon. Prostrate yourself with all five limbs to the ground; do not rise quickly from the bow, but wait until your qi is full before rising, and wait until your spirit is clear before bowing again as before. There is the rite of the three refuges and nine kowtows, and the ceremony of bowing the head to the hands and to the ground. On entering the alms-bowl hall, perform the rite of the ten directions: enter turning to the left, and withdraw turning to the right. Bow to the assembly, bow to the hall master and the general manager, and then bow to the seated elders and the tea attendant. Such a person is surely a superior guest, and a guest attendant will come to keep them company in the guest hall: first tea, then a meal, and a quiet room to lodge in. If one’s manners are incomplete, one is left to one’s own devices, takes tea and meals with the hall, may sleep in the hall of the ten directions, and is treated with the courtesy due to an inferior guest.
On Quanzhen Walking, Standing, Sitting, and Lying
All of these have their rules, and questions, answers, and discussions all have their proper beginnings and endings. One must sit like a great bell, lie like a bent bow, walk like a fresh breeze, and stand like an old pine. Speak softly, like a sick man or a maiden; move like a refined gentleman or a poor scholar. Answer one question with one answer; speak according to the old classics; when guiding the benighted and pointing out the path to the lost, do not mix in unfounded talk. As for those who walk like willows in the wind and sit like drooping lotuses; who presume to talk about affairs of state or slander the learning of the Buddhists; or who, when asked about the Great Tao, drag in side-door teachings, deceive the ignorant, and pride themselves on their erudition—they surely have had no teacher to instruct them, are the sort who pick up hearsay on the road, pass themselves off as Quanzhen, and come from beyond the pale. They are called “hairs of the three teachings,” “neither this nor that.” Those whose dress and manners do not accord with the rules are called “barbarians at both ends.” And those who cling to forms, follow heresies, and put on demonic airs are unworthy flatterers.
On Quanzhen Dress Colors
Blue-green is the main color. Blue-green is the Jia-Yi wood of the east, the position of the Tai hexagram, and also the thriving qi of the Azure Dragon. Therefore, as the later line of the Divine Lord of Eastern Florescence, it carries the allegory of wood, blue-green, and Tai, concealing the meaning of the Quanzhen school’s dual cultivation of nature and life.
The Formal Dress for Audiences: A Yellow Crown on the Head
Wear a dark cap, a blue-green robe with a yellow cord, and over it a crane cloak; wrap the feet in white socks and wear red shoes of clouds and rosy mist—so that all Five Phases are present. For the masters of the lineage and of the precepts, add an inner garment and ceremonial shoes; only then is the dress correct.
On First Meeting a Quanzhen Taoist
One should wait two or three days before asking about their past travels: on which famous mountain they left home, which province they usually reside in, which prefecture and county, which palace or temple, and which lineage. One fears that they may know only the lineages of the Seven Perfected, and not know that True Lord Xu has the Jingming lineage, Perfected Sa has the Xihe lineage, and that there are also the Hunyuan lineage of Lord Lao, the Xuandi lineage, the Jingyi lineage of Maoshan, the Golden Elixir (Jindan) lineage of Dongting, the lineage of Patriarch Yan of the Qianyuan Temple, the Louguan lineage of Perfected Yin, the new lineage of Zhang Sanfeng, and the Laoshan, Patriarch Sun, Patriarch Xu, Qingwei, Lingbao, Zhengyi, Baotian, and other lineages. Each of these lineages has renowned figures beyond the world. When someone comes to study the two matters of the Tao and its methods, to seek out eminent masters and famous people, or to pay homage from afar to a lineage master or head of the teaching—having come because of their fame—if their answers at the audience are not false and they truly cultivate emptiness and nothingness, then perhaps the rite of master and disciple may be performed, and a banquet should be held to fulfill the courtesy of host and guest. When both sides are virtuous, there is no departure from the teaching, and our mountain’s name will also spread across the four seas. But if, when questioned, they do not know the source of their lineage and talk wildly about miscellaneous matters, they are frauds who have not come to study the Tao and its methods.